


The Shoe String of Fate

by Denois



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Rivals to Friends to Lovers, idiots to lovers, minor/background appearances by the rest of the SMH team, or canon adjacent anyway, technically mostly canon compliant?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-07
Updated: 2020-12-13
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:27:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23525350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Denois/pseuds/Denois
Summary: The first time Derek Nurse’s shoelace was tied to someone else’s was at Andover.It was a prank, of course. It was a nearly universal experience among high school students that someone would devise a clever plan to tie their shoelaces to someone else’s without being caught. If the person was lucky, their shoes were tied to those of a crush. If they weren’t, they’d be tied to a rival or enemy, or generally unpleasant person. Of course, if the crush didn’t respond well to the situation, it could be pretty unlucky that way, too.The universe devised a method for identifying people that are exceptionally compatible as friends or romantic partners and high school students immediately rendered it useless.At least until people matured enough to not find it amusing to make others think they had found their soulmate. Which apparently would be after college.
Relationships: Derek "Nursey" Nurse/William "Dex" Poindexter
Comments: 32
Kudos: 105





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This won my poll on what I should have be my 100th fic. So here you go, yet another soulmate au.  
> Huge thanks to [Draskireis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/draskireis) for the beta look over and making me add on more words. 
> 
> I don't know what kind of update schedule I'll keep for this, but we'll see as we go.
> 
> * * *
> 
> In a world where shoe strings show you who your soulmates are, cultures will arise that consider shoe strings in public to be impolite and overly aggressive, these cultures will wear sandals and such shoes for most of their daily shoe usage, only switching to laced shoes if they feel sufficiently close to a person to see if perhaps they might be soulmates. Other cultures will consider it impolite to wear shoes without laces because you are purposely blocking yourself off from potential soulmates being aware of your connection.
> 
> There's probably someone out there selling Lace Locks or something that are supposed to keep your laces from being able to be tied to someone else's but aren't apparent so if you are rich enough you can appear to meet the social standards of politely wearing your laced shoes while not having to worry about the possibility of some undesirable ending up tied to you.
> 
> Lucky for us, Dex can't afford Lace Locks if they exist and Nursey is too much of a romantic to risk missing out on potential soulmates.

A string of fate connects each person to those that are significant to their lives. The significance may be short lived or long, platonic or romantic. The connections appear when the people are in close proximity. Slowly at first. Then more frequently as the significance increases. 

Some choose to ignore this string of fate, separating themselves from the other person. 

Others embrace the bond and cut the string together, leaving their lives tied to one another. 

Some avoid the situation entirely by simply refusing to wear shoes with laces. 

But for most people, at some point after puberty, they will find their shoelaces inexplicably tied to those of another. Another with whom they have the opportunity to form a deeper connection. And possibly a few more after that as well.

The Shoe String of Fate shows potential; it does not offer guarantees.

* * *

* * *

The first time Derek Nurse’s shoelace was tied to someone else’s was at Andover.

It was a prank, of course. It was a nearly universal experience among high school students that someone would devise a clever plan to tie their shoelaces to someone else’s without being caught. If the person was lucky, their shoes were tied to those of a crush. If they weren’t, they’d be tied to a rival or enemy, or generally unpleasant person. Of course, if the crush didn’t respond well to the situation, it could be pretty unlucky that way, too. 

The universe devised a method for identifying people that are exceptionally compatible as friends or romantic partners and high school students immediately rendered it useless. 

At least until people matured enough to not find it amusing to make others think they had found their soulmate. Which apparently would be after college.

Nursey didn’t see who tied his shoe lace to that of the redheaded guy who was also on the tour. He wasn’t sure why someone would prank them by tying their laces together, but he’d also heard the guy dogging on people who went to prep school and saying that he was going to go to a state school anyway. So it’s not like it mattered. Even if he was cute. 

So Nursey untied their laces before anyone noticed and moved on. Literally. He walked over to say hey to Shitty who he’d played with briefly at Andover. 

“Nursey! Representing Andover on the Taddy Tour! What up bro?” Shitty looked good. Happier and more himself with his long hair slicked back into a bun. They clasped hands.

“Heeey! Shitty! Knew I’d run into you eventually. Man, Samwell’s pretty sick. But yo. Man! Your other team manager is mad hyper.” He turned and gestured towards the blond who had arrived with welcome packages a few minutes before.

“Who, Bitty? Brah, Bitty’s not a team manager -- He’s on the team.” 

Before Nursey could respond, Redhead broke in. “That guy? Wow. I thought since _Jack Zimmermann_ played here, guys would be...less good at baking if you know what I mean.”

Nursey may have assumed that Bitty was a manager, but he wasn’t sure what Redhead was trying to say about guys not being good at baking. He was about to ask when the guy in a Sharks hoodie (covered by a Samwell shirt) and cap broke in excitedly.

“Okay!! I did it. I just enrolled!! I’m Samwell 2018!” Then slightly quieter, “‘Swawesome.”

Nursey decided to let it go. He was just glad that he’d untied their laces and not said anything. It was clearly a prank. The guy was going to a state school, anyway (where he could be sure the guys on the team weren’t so good at baking and hadn’t gone to some offensive prep school). And it sounded like the guy would have pitched a fit about it and caused a bigger scene than had happened to Nursey at Andover. 

Seriously, these small minded jerks never seemed to remember the connection could be platonic. Not that he wanted a platonic bond with that sort of jerk either, but it might be chill if they’d try using their brains for once in their lives before flipping out.

Luckily, the tour moved on to show the group the rest of the campus, and Nursey was able to keep at least one person between him and Redhead (Dex, apparently) for the rest of the visit. For a bit by hanging out near Shitty. It was comforting to actually know someone at the university he planned to attend, even if they hadn’t been close while they were at Andover. Honestly, he was kind of surprised that Shitty recognized him. He’d grown a lot since he was a high school freshman.

“Yo, we both know that I’m pretty much guaranteed to enroll at Samwell.”

“Yeah, brah. ‘Swawesome.”

“But I need to know. Is the team chill? How much am I going to deal with comments about bisexuality not being real, or pranks where people tie my shoelaces to everyone else’s?” 

They were a bit away from the group, and he kept his voice low, so Nursey was pretty sure no one else was listening in. Shitty knew what had happened at Andover, of course, but that didn’t mean Nursey wanted to explain the whole situation in embarrassing detail to everyone else. 

“Nah, brah. It’s fucking cool. Like, Bitty’s gay and out to everyone. No one has a problem with it. Ransom and Holster were fucking stoked to find someone to set him up with for Winter Screw last year. They’ll probably lose their minds over your dating pool potentially including the entire student body. It’s fucking ‘swawes’. And the guys should know that it’s not ‘swawes’ to tie people’s laces, but I can give a few reminders, brah. Got your back.” Shitty held out his fist for a bump and then wandered off. Which was fair, the tour was for prospects, not for the guys who were already on the team. 

Unfortunately, it meant that he was left in the company of Bitty, the Sharks fan (Chris), and Dex. Well, there were a handful of other guys touring too, but somehow they were even less appealing to talk to than Dex. So, Nursey just made sure to stay on the other side of Chris or Bitty from where Dex was standing, and focused on learning about the school.


	2. Chapter 2

Samwell was perfect. An Ivy so his dad couldn’t complain too much. But like, a lower end Ivy so most of the hyper-privileged jerks he knew at Andover thought they were above it and went to a different school. Like Yale. 

Ok, it was almost perfect. It was still an Ivy so there were still plenty of conservative, hyper-privileged jerks around (just not the exact same ones from Andover), and its reputation for being more liberal meant that it attracted Woke White Liberals. The kind of people who would use all the right buzz words while committing microaggressions against everyone around them. 

But most of the students weren’t there yet, and things were going to be chill for the first few weeks. At least, that’s what Nursey thought. Right up until the first day of practice.

Apparently, state school was a lie. 

Worse, the masking tape with his name was stuck to the cubby next to where Dex was sitting to tape his socks up. Nursey dropped his stuff and started pulling off his shirt. He was here to play hockey. He might not need a scholarship, but he wasn’t going to lose it just because some white boy got him distracted. 

Luckily, Dex seemed content to ignore him, too, and kept his eyes pinned to the floor or his own gear. Probably had some homophobic fear of seeing another guy’s junk swinging in the dressing room as they got ready. He certainly dressed fast enough to reduce that chance. The only one to beat Dex out onto the ice was Jack.

But that meant that Nursey could stretch out a little as he took his time making sure the pads provided by Samwell were sized right and secure. It felt good to be in skates again. Well, he’d skated over the summer, of course. Had to keep in shape and his skills sharp. But to be fully kitted out, walking out to the ice with a group of guys, a team. That felt good. 

He had a good feeling about this team. It was going to be much better than the one at Andover. He was sure of it.

Even with Dex on the team.

“Okay. Let’s go!” Coach Hall’s voice rang out across the ice, getting everyone’s attention. “We’re going to start with some skill drills, see where everyone’s at after the off season. Red sweaters, this is your chance to impress us. Convince us you deserve a spot on the team. Starting with slalom races, divide up.” 

Dex was one of the first ones to a starting line, so Nursey let himself drift to the back of a group. He wasn’t opposed to seeing what this guy had that made him think he deserved to be there any more than anyone else. He wasn’t opposed to kicking his ass on the slalom races or any other skill drill. 

But still, he’d like to see what the guy was bringing to the ice first. Maybe it wouldn’t even matter. Maybe him being recruited was a fluke and the coaches would cut him and move up a red sweater. 

Or maybe he’d actually be halfway decent and would keep his spot. Just because he was good didn’t mean Nursey had to like him. Plenty of guys at Andover had been dece. Didn’t stop them from being assholes. 

Bitty ended up lined up to skate against Dex, which Nursey privately thought should be amusing. He was pretty sure that Bitty’d been doing some spins when they first got onto the ice to warm up. He was going to literally skate circles around Dex and put him in his place, or Dex was going to actually prove he was more than just talk. 

Nursey adjusted his spot in the lineup to make sure he could see the race.

Coach Hall blew the whistle and they both shot off the line. Bitty pulled ahead as they rounded the cones. As Nursey suspected, he had far better edges and more practiced control at smooth, quick turns. But apparently, what Dex lacked in finesse he made up in power because he wasn’t very far behind as they turned around the last cone and Coach Hall pushed the puck out between them to race for. 

Nursey expected Bitty to grab it on his tape and take the shot, leaving Dex to defend. Which would make sense; Dex was a d-man like himself. But to his surprise, Dex managed to brush past Bitty and was about to get the puck when Coach Hall’s whistle blew again.

Bitty was laying on the ice and not moving. Dex and Coach Hall got to him about the same time and some of the other guys started crowding in closer. None of the upperclassmen or the coaches seemed surprised or worried about seeing Bitty on the ice and he started moving a few seconds later. 

Dex, on the other hand, seemed very concerned. “Is he okay? Coach, I’m sorry, but I barely even grazed him. You guys saw-” 

Or maybe he was only worried about getting in trouble. 

“It’s all right. Bittle? Come on. Get up.”

The coaches got Bitty up and to the bench. A couple of the upperclassmen started discussing ways to make a play out of it. And then the red sweater next to Nursey had to open his mouth. 

“Maybe there’ll be another spot to fill.” 

“You ever get checked so hard you ended up with a major concussion?” Dex’s voice was surprisingly close.

The guy scoffed. “No.”

“Bittle did, getting a pass to Jack during the playoffs last year. Hoping that a teammate has a career ending injury when he’s a freshman just to improve your chances seems pretty unsportsmanlike. Seems pretty much against the honor code Samwell had you sign.” 

Nursey looked at Dex to see if he was bullshitting, but he was staring at the bench with his eyebrows furrowed, not looking at the other guy at all. 

“I mean, I’m just saying. If that happens in a game, he could be seriously injured. That’s all.”

Nursey rolled his eyes. “Yeah, sure you were. Just, chill and get ready to skate. It doesn’t matter how many spots are available if you don’t have the skill to earn one.”

Thankfully, the guy decided to ignore them and he could focus on the practice again. It was tough and it was long and it was only the beginning. Luckily, there were still times where he could watch other people during the skills tests and get an idea of strengths and weaknesses. It seemed pretty obvious to him who had kept up with their conditioning and development over the summer and who hadn’t. He had kept up with his, of course, but he was still wiped out by the time the coaches dismissed them to change. 

Changing felt slow and arduous, but he could play that off as just due to him being chill. Then he froze as he looked down at their shoes. They were tied together. They were tied together, and there was no way someone could have done it as a joke. Nursey slid off the bench of his cubby and onto the floor, jostling against Dex’s leg as he went, but managing to grab the lace and untie it.

“What the hell?”

“Yo, sorry. It’s chill. Just fell.” He readjusted his position and tied his shoe, flashing a smile up. 

Dex glanced down and then looked away. “Whatever. You should be more careful.” 

Nursey wanted to retort that he didn’t need advice on how to live from Dex, but apparently Nursey was below his notice and he was too busy staring off into space.

He followed the direction of Dex’s gaze. Or maybe not into space, maybe he was staring at the coaches’ office. Nursey stood back up and grabbed his stuff. 

“Hey, chill. He’ll be good.”

Dex didn’t glance over this time. “He shouldn’t have been on the ice. If he’s not recovered, he shouldn’t even be on the ice. Fainting like that after a concussion, liability.” 

And just like that, Nursey lost any hope that the guy wasn’t a giant douchenozzle. He hit the door to the hallway thinking about how whatever aspect of the universe decided to tie his shoe to Dex’s was clearly, completely mistaken.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> weird how words can have different meanings.
> 
> Sorry for the long delay.


	3. Chapter 3

Avoiding Dex was a problem. 

Only a bit because Dex definitely was good enough to keep his spot on the team and because the coaches had paired the two of them up as linemates. NCAA gear requirements meant that skates were all equipped with lace locks or were laceless, so it wasn’t like he had to worry about their laces getting tied together while they were on the ice. No, on the ice he only had to worry about Dex being a fucking perfectionist about the plays and grumbling every time he was slightly off the mark or suggested making variations.

It was off the ice that was the problem. Their cubbies were still next to each other, which Nursey dealt with by taking his time getting changed to make sure he didn’t put his shoes on until Dex had vacated the area. He made sure to always be on a different circuit during conditioning. That, honestly, should have taken care of it. 

But, no. Of course not. He couldn’t be rid of William Poindexter that easily. Chowder, sweet beautiful Chowder, had decided that they were both his best friends. Had decided that they should _all_ be best friends. Which meant if he wanted to hang out with Chowder, he had to hang out with Dex. So, he spent a lot of time trying to keep his shoes away from Dex’s and double checking the laces. He had to find ways to cover up untying them half a dozen more times. 

It was absurd. He and Poindexter were clearly not soulmate material. Even a platonic match was laughable. Whatever powers existed that determined who’s laces would be tied with whose, they’d made a mistake.

He was going to prove it.

* * *

“Dex and I are taking Intro to CS together! You should take it too.” 

Nursey glanced up at Chowder’s hopeful face, then to Dex’s. 

Dex was carefully avoiding looking at him, pretending to look through the course catalog again. 

“Sorry C. I’m really more of a poetry guy. You could take Readings in English Poetry I with me.”

As anticipated, Dex rolled his eyes at the suggestion and barely suppressed a snort.

“Got a problem with poetry, Poindexter?”

“No. It’s great, if you can afford it.” 

Nursey returned the eye roll at that. They all had hockey scholarships and they all had writing credit requirements to fill. Dex could just admit that he thought he was too good to take a poetry class with Nursey.

* * *

Trying to avoid being too physically close to Dex was difficult, in part, because Dex didn’t seem to have a problem with it. He wasn’t touchy-feely like Chowder. He didn’t get into Nursey’s space or try to cuddle or anything. He just had no problems with sitting next to Nursey on the roadie bus, or at Founders, or at team breakfast. If not next to him, then across from him. 

Which, like. Whatever. He’d come out as bi to the team, or at least the main group, and some of them were being jerks about it. So, on the one hand, it was nice that Dex didn’t seem to be changing how he acted toward Nursey. On the other hand, Dex’d been spending time around Bitty while fixing the oven and probably agreed with Bitty that Nursey would settle into straight or gay when he found his soulmate. Like that’s how attraction even worked. Like soulmates couldn’t be completely platonic and not have a romantic or sexual component at all. 

So, yeah. Nursey was waiting for Dex to make a comment about him not liking labels (and trying to forget about the similar tweet) and he was sure that the shit would hit the fan if Dex realized that their shoe laces were getting tied together by the universe. And Dex was sitting mad close to him way too much of the time, which meant he was having to make all kinds of excuses to fix their shoes before anyone saw.

He considered switching to loafers, but no one, not Poindexter, not anyone, was going to make him change his style. 

The obvious solution was to make Dex not want to be anywhere close to him, by getting into his personal space and engaging in homoerotic hockey bro behavior that could totally be written off by the rest of the team but was sure to make Dex uncomfortable.

So, he sat in Dex’s lap, feet on the other side of the couch. He slung an arm around Dex’s shoulders every time he saw him. He instigated wrestling matches and pulled on Dex’s ears. 

Still, Dex dropped into the seat next to him at the Haus when they were going to chill with C.

Nursey held a hand up in front of Dex’s eyes while he tried to read his notes.

“Stop it, Nurse.”

“What? I’m not touching you.”

“I said stop.” 

Dex tried to push Nursey’s arm away, which Nursey expected and had prepared for. What Nursey hadn’t prepared for was that Dex wouldn’t actually put any strength into his push, so when Nursey attempted to counter it, his hand slammed into Dex’s face.

“Ow! What the fuck, Nurse?”

“Shit. My bad.” Nursey stared in horror as Dex covered his nose. He hadn’t meant to hurt Dex. Even if Dex was an overpriviledged ass, he wouldn’t intentionally hurt him. He’d just expected more resistance. 

Dex pushed him away and stood up, still holding his nose. “Bitty! Do you have any tissues?”

* * *

“It’s just a hockey chirp!”

“It’s a misogynistic slur!” Nursey got into Dex’s face. He wasn’t going to back down over this. 

The universe thought that Dex was his soulmate? Clearly there was a mistake because any soulmate of his would be chugging the Respect Women Juice.

“Do you want the other team to win?!”

“Sexist chirps aren’t going to decide who wins! Step up your game if you’re that worried.”

Dex pulled back and stared at him for a second. “Can’t help but notice you aren’t yelling this shit at Holster and Ransom.”

“That’s because they’re not-” He cut himself off. He wasn’t going to admit that the universe thought they should be connected somehow. “They’re upperclassmen.”

“Oh. Yeah. Ok. I get it.” 

He didn’t have to worry about when to put on his shoes after the game. Dex somehow managed to avoid him entirely in the dressing room.

He also never heard that word from Dex again.

* * *

“You just don’t get it because your white privilege made it easy for you to get into hockey!”

“You think it was easy for me to get into hockey? Do you even know how fucking expensive hockey is?” Dex cut off abruptly. “You know what. Nevermind. You don’t get it. I’ve got a study session to get to.”

Dex packed up his bag and stormed off without another word.

When Nursey looked back, Chowder was looking at him sadly.

“You guys promised you would try not to fight anymore.”

He was briefly chagrined. He had promised Chowder that he wouldn’t start actual fights. But this had just been a verbal disagreement, really. They hadn’t scuffled or wrestled at all. He hadn’t even pulled Dex’s ears or taunted him about how he wasn’t touching him. It was an actual legitimate dispute in their base philosophies.

“Sorry, C. But pretty sure that new sticker on his laptop said ‘Samwell Young Republicans’, so. That’s not really something I can overlook.” 

It was, however, the most obvious sign yet that the universe was wrong about them sharing a connection.

“You don’t know why he might have put that there. He could have a reason.”

“Ch’yeah. And that reason might be that he’s a hyper privileged conservative jerk. I know you’re trying to be friends with him, too, and you’re a saint for it. But I just don’t think I can ignore shit like that.”

Chowder continued to frown at him. “I know you two don’t always understand each other. But he’s really not a bad guy.”

Nursey wanted to just roll his eyes and brush it off, but something about how much it was upsetting Chowder made him pause. 

“Ok. I will _try_ to chill and not be mad antagonistic. But I’m also not going to back down if he starts shit.”

That earned him a Chowder hug, so it was probably worth it.

Or it would have been if he hadn’t had to find excuses to untie his shoelace from Dex’s twice that week already. Their feet hadn’t even been that close together, just stretched out under the table from opposite sides while studying.


	4. Chapter 4

As soon as Dex realized that hockey might actually be a ticket out for him (to the NHL or AHL if he was really lucky, the olympics if he was lucky and Bettman was an asshole, or at least a scholarship for a job with financial security), Dex had known there were things that he couldn’t allow his team to know. He didn’t talk about his outside interests, he kept his head down and worked hard, and he kept an eye on his shoelaces.

He chose Samwell University for purely practical reasons. Jack Zimmermann’s senior year meant that scouts would undoubtedly be at the games, even if just because of the name recognition. And having the chance at a captain who had played at that level might help him make up for some of his lack of development coaching and ice time. Maybe it would be enough. Probably not.

If he’d ever even considered the fact that he might meet his soulmate at Samwell, he would have signed with a state school like he originally planned. Knowing that Jack allowed outside interests on his team, non traditional outside interests, was nice. But no matter how accepting a college team was, it wouldn’t fix the rampant homophobia of the NHL and greater hockey world. Dex was willing to bet money that there were tied and bonded soulmates playing in the NHL, but it didn’t matter. None of them were out. Even those that had been outed and claimed it was a platonic bond (which may or may not have been true, but it didn’t matter) ended up in the ECHL at best. 

Unless he ended up in a platonic bond with a woman, the absolute best he could offer a soulmate was years, decades maybe, in the closet. Deep in the closet. He couldn’t ask that of anyone.

Which wasn’t to say that he didn’t date. He did. He was just careful about it and it didn’t happen a lot. There was too much at stake. Maybe if he didn’t make it into the NHL. Once he was sure that the best he was going to get out of hockey was the scholarship to Samwell, then he could relax a little. 

At least he’d gotten that far.

Dating a teammate was _completely_ out of the question. Even - no, especially - incredibly attractive ones. _Especially_ incredibly rich ones. And definitely not incredibly annoying ones.

Which didn’t prevent him from developing a crush. Oddly enough, it helped knowing that it was doomed to be unrequited from the start. He didn’t have to worry about if he was making the right choice to avoid pursuing a relationship to keep his NHL prospects alive. 

He was pretty sure that the crush started the first day of practice. Which was, all things considered, a _really_ stupid time to develop a crush when he was trying to stay closeted.

* * *

*

* * *

He’d barely noticed Nurse - Nursey - in the dressing room before practice. Dex had been in too much of a rush. And sticking to his plan of avoiding letting teammates know about him. But mostly, he wanted to get on the ice and start warming up. It had been months since he’d been on the ice. He’d barely been able to keep up with conditioning with his summer work schedule. The last thing he wanted was to screw up and get kicked from the team the first day. 

Which meant that of course the coaches decided to run skills drills first. It made sense. It really did. He knew that. But still, he also knew he was slower than normal on the turns as he threaded through the cones on the slalom race. He knew that he was going to have to push himself to prove he was worth keeping around. But he should have been faster. If he’d kept up with his footwork over the summer, maybe he would have already been ahead of Bitty. If he’d had just a bit better edges, he wouldn’t have had to pass Bitty. If he’d not tried so hard to prove himself and taken the defense position on the race (which was his position anyway!) then he wouldn’t have brushed against Bitty. 

And Bitty wouldn’t have fainted. 

The coaches didn’t seem concerned. The veteran players didn’t seem concerned. The walk-ons seemed downright gleeful at the possibility of another spot opening on the roster. 

In the dressing room after practice, Bitty was still in the coaches’ office talking to them. Maybe the coaches had been concerned. Then Nurse had fallen to the ground. He seemed fine. To the best of Dex’s knowledge, Nurse hadn’t suffered a recent brain injury. 

“What the hell?”

“Yo, sorry. It’s chill. Just fell.”

“Whatever. You should be more careful.” 

Falling in the hockey dressing room was dangerous for a number of reasons. The skates should all have guards on them, sure, but there were other sharp edges and hard surfaces. Not having a recent injury didn’t prevent him from getting a new one. 

Dex looked back towards the office and Bitty. It didn’t make sense for Bitty to have fainted like that unless he hadn’t actually recovered from the concussion.

“Hey, chill. He’ll be good.”

“He shouldn’t have been on the ice. If he’s not recovered, he shouldn’t even be on the ice. Fainting like that after a concussion, liability.” 

Bitty should have been in a no-contact sweater at best. If the slightest contact made him faint, there just wasn’t a way for him to practice normally without contact and fainting meant he could get another concussion, or worse.

* * *

*

* * *

Nursey had been the only other one to seem even a little bit more concerned about Bitty’s health than the team, or personal gain. It wasn’t what he’d expected from a rich guy fresh out of prep school. 

Since then, Nursey had kept him guessing. 

He refused to take a CS class with Dex and Chowder, then suggested that they take a poetry class with him. Dex would have liked to agree, but poetry wasn’t really a viable career option, and since he was trying to double major in Computer Science and Womens, Gender, and Sexuality Studies, he couldn’t afford to take an elective that wouldn’t meet a requirement for one of those programs.

Nursey came out as bi to the team, and Dex absolutely did not allow himself to believe that it meant his crush might have a chance of being requited. It didn’t. But it was nice to feel less alone. It was already nice to be friends with Chowder. Chowder was good enough to make the NHL. Everyone knew it. And Chowder seemed to actually like him as a friend. Chowder had been safe to talk to. The three Frogs. He felt- maybe not understood. But close to accepted. He didn’t feel like he needed to keep himself separate. He could sit next to Nursey and not worry that Nursey would get weirded out by him being next to him.

Except that Nursey did. Or Nursey just liked to annoy Dex. Which really _should_ have killed the crush. But it didn’t. Nurse poked him, and pulled him, and once held his hand in front of his face so Dex couldn’t see, then managed to slam his hand into Dex’s nose when Dex tried to brush it away. But none of them were serious. They were playful. Even the hit to the nose had been an accident. He could tell. He had an older brother; he knew an intentional hit disguised as an accident compared to an actual accident. And Dex’s stupid, traitorous brain just soaked up the attention and homoeroticism of it all. Nursey would never like him back, but Nursey was comfortable enough around him to wrestle and horse play. It was nice.

It was nice.

It wasn’t nice when Nursey yelled at him for his choice of chirps. Mostly because Dex knew, knew for a fact, that the rest of the team said the same stuff and worse, but Nursey only called him out. But still. His crush grew. It had started because Nursey cared about someone else, of course it grew when Nursey showed passion about defending other people. Vague, nebulous other people that weren’t actually in the area and possibly weren’t being hurt by Dex’s chirp. But, it was good to be reminded that the team could be better, do better. They could make their little part of hockey more accepting, less harmful. And Nursey had a point, using words in chirps could lead to using them elsewhere, or harmful thought patterns. 

So, he stopped.

* * *

Five weeks after the start of term, Dex’s shoelaces ended up tied to Nursey’s.

They were studying at the Haus. He wasn’t sure why they did that so often. It was quieter at the library, even with the number of people trying to find a place to study. Or even in one of their dorms. Maybe it had to do with how much of the time they spent studying, Bitty spent baking, and Nursey and Chowder were frequently given the results of that.

Regardless, they were at the Haus, sitting around in the den, each working on their own homework. It was quiet, between them at least. There was music coming from the kitchen, and the sound of Holster moving around was audible even from two floors down. Shitty was on the reading room, yelling something at the lax house across the street. It was all background noise by this point. 

Dex finished his reading for The History of Right Now, including making notes. He wanted to let it process before he tried to start writing the associated paper, so he paused to shift over to his Feminism and Judaism readings. Then he noticed that his shoe was tied to Nursey’s.

He swallowed hard and quickly glanced out of the corner of his eyes, but neither Nursey nor Chowder seemed to have noticed. He dragged his backpack over to cover his shoe and spent extra time digging around in it. It provided the cover he needed to untie their laces, and retie his own shoes. Instead of pulling out the next reading, he put everything back into the bag and made an excuse about an exam review.

There hadn’t been anyone around, just Nursey, Chowder, and himself. Nursey and Chowder had both been busy studying the whole time. 

There was no way that Nursey was his soulmate. Someone had been trying to prank him.

The next day, Nursey yelled at him about how easy it was for him to get into hockey.

Like the expense of hockey wasn’t one of the biggest barriers to the sport.

* * *

They’d been working on their coding homework for nearly an hour when Chowder cleared his throat. 

“I know Bitty talked to you yesterday. He told me that the reason you got upset with Nursey was because he called you privileged. But, um, white privilege is a real thing, Dex.”

Dex sighed and saved his work so he could focus on Chowder. Chowder deserved that.

“I know it is. Like, it’s hard to see it sometimes because I have it, but I do know it’s there. I’m-.” He broke off and gestured toward his backpack. “I’m _trying_ to learn and know things. And I don’t know what Bitty was talking about because I told him that no, that wasn’t why I was upset.”

“Swawesome. I didn’t think you were like that. But you were upset? I thought you two had agreed to try to stop fighting, but-.” Chowder trailed off and sighed. “I can tell you’re avoiding him. You keep making excuses when I invite you for Frog time. If it’s not about the white privilege stuff like Bitty said, then why are you upset?”

His hair was too short to really run his hands through in a satisfying manner, and too long to get the nice velvety feel from a fresh cut. Still, he ran his hands through it before answering. “I thought I explained it to Bitty, but sure. I’ll try again.” 

He took a couple of slow breaths while he ordered his thoughts. Apparently he wasn’t making himself clear to people, and he needed Chowder to understand at least. “Because Nursey’s always going on about making hockey less white. Which is ‘chill’ or whatever he says? But like, institutional racism right? It’s linked in with classism, preventing people from accumulating generational wealth or whatever. Like, he doesn’t recognize his own class privilege. He went to a private school that cost more than my uncle’s annual salary. He has the best gear. He buys development ice time and private coaching from top tier coaches. And, you know, you look at the black guys that have made it to the show, right? Seth Jones, son of an NBA player. Darnell Nurse, son of a CFL player and nephew of an NFL player. PK and Malcolm Subban, sons of a school principal which is admittedly not in the same income tier but still higher than most. Like, if there’s a disproportionate amount of poor black kids, then to get more black kids into hockey, you gotta get more poor kids into hockey. You can’t ignore the monetary barrier of entry. I was lucky. Yeah, white privilege. My uncle has a lobster boat and I could start lobstering at age eight with a student license to pay my way to play hockey. So, like, sure. Address the racism and shit in hockey, but if you want to actually make it less white, you gotta address the cost, too.”

Chowder was quiet after he’d finished his explanation. The room was quiet, just the cooling fans whirring in their laptops. 

He closed his laptop and grabbed his backpack. “Look. I’ll be chill or whatever, right? Just, yeah, it’s harder for other people to get into hockey because they don’t even have the option to work and pay for it at that age, or they do get to play and have to deal with even more bullshit than I did from the other players and coaches and parents and shit. But that doesn’t mean it was easy for me. Lobstering isn’t a freaking vacation at the Hamptons.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Flashback time

October 26, 2012

It was Dex’s fault. He wasn’t going to deny it. He’d been crammed into the tiny desks the schools thought were one size fit all, trying to make sense of the trig equations the teacher was discussing, and he’d stopped paying attention to his shoelaces. He’d stretched his legs out to try to keep them from cramping up, shoving them under the desk in front of him. 

It shouldn’t have been a problem. He didn’t know the girl who sat there, really. But they’d had a couple of interactions in class and she’d been friendly enough. Civil at least. She was popular in a way that he wasn’t, but he was one of the best players on the school hockey team and that gave him his own popularity. Their circles didn’t overlap, really, but it was difficult not to know who each other were even without sitting so close in class.

It was the guys from the team. He would have realized that even if they hadn’t started whooping and making kiss noises and vaguely lewd comments as soon as she’d tried to move her feet and the tied laces had been discovered. She sat extremely stiff and unmoving until he was able to reach down and around his desk to untie their laces. Her cold nonreaction didn’t stop the hissed comments. If anything they seemed to become more lewd, changing from references to sugar mamas to advising Dex on helping her loosen up and removing the stick from her ass.

“Hey, Panny? I’ll take your advice as soon as there’s evidence that you’ve ever talked to a girl much less wheeled one.”

“The fuck, Poindexter? I talk to girls all the time.”

“But do they consent to it?”

The other three guys from the team that were in the class shifted to chirping Panny about his lack of wheels until Mr. Davis finally stepped in, about ten minutes too late, to tell everyone to focus and behave.

After school, he found her sitting on one of the picnic tables outside the school, alone thought it probably wouldn’t last long.

“Hey, Maddie. I just wanted to apologize for the things the guys said. They were chirping me because it’s my birthday, but you didn’t deserve to be brought into it. No one deserves the shit they were saying.”

She looked over at him coldly. “You think that just because you play hockey that somehow means you actually matter? That you’re no longer trash?” She made a face and leaned forward slightly. “If you or your ratty discount store shoelaces ever touch me, or so much as get near me again, I will press assault charges. And who do you think they’ll believe? Good luck being the hometown hockey hero with a rap sheet.” 

She slid off the table and slung her bag over a shoulder to push past him and fall into step with a couple of other girls from her clique. 

The next day she started wearing lace locks and he asked Mr. Davis to reassign him to a different seat.

* * *

“Okay, but she can’t just do that. It’s a false statement.” Amber shoved an entire chip in her mouth, laden with salsa, and looked down at him from where she sat on the dryer he was elbow deep in the guts of.

“She can. Her word against mine. And she’s not wrong about who they’d believe.”

“Statistically-”

“Ayuh. I know. Generally courts end up believing the guy, but she’s got money for lawyers and I don’t, right? And like, if they do find me not guilty? It’s just fueling guys like Panny claiming that all the accusations are attention seeking or whatever.” He reached over to his toolbox and felt around blindly for a few seconds to find the screwdriver he needed.

“In this case, it is a false accusation though.”

“Yeah, like 2% of cases are or whatever. Not worth it. Seriously, best case scenario, I get through this year, I never have another class with Maddy or Panny, and in a couple of years I graduate. Not eligible for the draft until 2015, but maybe UMaine Orono will want me.”

“You really plan to just stay closeted forever, huh?”

He pressed his lips together and focused on tightening the screw he was working on without cross threading it. “No. Just until after I retire.” 

“And if you meet your actual soulmate?”

“Once I get to the show I’ll be able to afford lace locks. Won’t be a problem.”

She didn’t say anything and he didn’t look up, but still.

“Don’t look at me like that. It’s not sad. It’s just life.”

“What if you actually like him though?”

Dex closed his eyes with a sigh. “Doesn’t matter. I’m not the kind of guy people want to be tied to.”

“There’s still time. Maybe we’ll end up platonically tied and we can beard for each other.” She swung her foot over to nudge his shoulder with a toe.

He knew what she was offering. He knew that she’d absolutely hate having a beard. He knew she’d still follow through if they did end up platonically tied.

“Thank, Amb.”

* * *

March 2013

“Did you seriously sign an intent for _Samwell_?”

Dex didn’t look up, he had to focus on what he was doing or things would magically shift without him noticing and it would all mess up. “Ayuh.”

“But _why_? It’s a private liberal arts college. It’s going to be full of prep school kids.”

“Probably.” He examined his work with a critical eye. It looked balanced so far.

“And prep school kids are assholes. Maddy, Stiner, Robby. Literally every person we’ve known in this town that transferred to prep school was a complete asshole.”

Finally he looked up at Amber. “Poor kids can be assholes, too, Amb. Panny, Sid, Niner. The entire fucking hockey team? Over half the school.”

Amber rolled onto her back and stared at the ceiling. “The hockey team doesn’t count as poor.”

He made a noncommittal noise. She had a point, but also, they were still at public school, so the prep school divide didn’t apply. “Still over half the school.”

“You know what I mean though. Rich people are on another level. Systemic assholery. Institutional assholery. You don’t get rich without fucking a ton of people over.” She paused for a moment. “Unless you’re Dolly Parton, then you end up not as rich as you could be because you actually try to do some good and remember your roots.”

“Most people our age are only rich because of family.”

“Exactly! Family that fucked people over and taught them that anyone who isn’t rich and white and straight and able bodied doesn’t matter.”

“Most of ‘em, sure. There are some class traitors.”

She snorted. “Less than 1% of the 1% are class traitors and you know it. So, tell me. Was it a guy? You went on the prospect tour to meet your childhood hero or something. Did you find out he was down to get busy? Met your soulmate? What?”

“No.”

“Right. You’re a dumbass. If any of that had happened you’d have signed a letter for the first state school that looked your way.”

“There was a guy on the team, okay?’

“I knew it.”

“Shut up. There was a guy on the team who bakes. Who’s gay and he’s out to the team. And they’re all okay with it. Even Jack Zimmermann. And the rumors about him and Kent used to be a big deal, and I think he still wants to go to the NHL, so like, I didn’t expect him to be ok with stuff like that. The attention, you know? The scrutiny. But it was all just, fine. And another one of the guys on the team is double majoring in Women’s, Gender, and Sexuality Studies like I was thinking. And everyone’s cool with him too.” He sighed and looked down at his completed project before throwing the rainbow elephant amigurumi at Amber. “Maybe they’d be cool with me not being typical or whatever. I still probably can’t be out, but maybe not in Narnia?”

“Ayuh. I can see how it’d be nice to not be in Narnia. The Christian allegory alone has to be tiring.” 

“And I don’t have the same development ice time that most guys do, so getting to be on a team with someone like Zimmermann could really help me. Plus, I’ll be eligible for the draft next year, so maybe if the scouts are already there for Zimmermann, they’ll notice me, too.”

“Ugh. Fine. I get it. You have reasons to put up with the hell hole an ivy league school will be. But you have to help me finish rebuilding my bike first. I found a source for the parts I need to make the engine run, I think. Should be here next week.”

“Sure. My uncles do usually manage to give me one afternoon off a week and hockey’s nearly over. I can pass you tools while you commit a surgery on your bike.”

**Author's Note:**

> If you want to talk to me about this or NurseyDex or my other fics or just yell, you can find me on tumbls at [SexyDexyNurse](https://sexydexynurse.tumblr.com/)


End file.
